


Settle

by swtalmnd



Series: Smooth Gear Action [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, I do what I want, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, they're still not together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 11:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20873840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: Bucky starts to settle in as Tony's guest and kind of never wants to leave. Tony never wants him to leave. And this is before any kissing has happened.Extensive description of Tony's cliffsidevillain lairhome and stash of goodies. By which I mean food.





	Settle

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Narutaisho for betaing despite the universe's attempts to prevent it with disease and misfortune! And to newtypeshadow, whose excitement keeps me working on this despite the 23785675256756757 other things awaiting my attention.

Tony gathered up all the dignity he could, knowing he looked like a wet cat, and led Barnes down the stairs, through the lab, and down another, hidden set of stairs to his home. 

This was the most secure part of his compound, despite the wall of windows overlooking the water. All his windows were bulletproof, but these were smaller, thicker panes set up in layers designed to absorb more force together. The living room was cosy instead of expansive, and the attached, open-plan kitchen backed into the cliff with no windows of its own. The three bedroom suites had a few small windows, all triply reinforced, though Tony had indulged himself and put his sunken bathtub right up against one of the biggest ones. 

If he was going to die naked, at least he'd see it coming.

"All right, Bucky-bean. Your room's on the right, linens are in this closet, and the ensuite should be kitted up. I'm gonna wash up and change while you settle in, and then we'll see what's in the pantry." Tony continued on down the hall, shooting his bemused guest a damp smile.

When he emerged, he was feeling much more human in clean jeans, a double layer of dry shirts, silk boxer-briefs, and a pair of hand-knit woolen socks that Sam's mom had sent down. Bucky was over by the windows, watching the rain lash against the thick glass with a look on his face that Tony couldn't begin to decipher. That was one reason he'd become a virtual hermit: people weren't his strong suit.

"So, how about something hot and filling?" asked Tony, slapping a flirtatious smirk on his face when his brain caught up with what his mouth was spouting.

Bucky looked startled by that and then smiled right back, slow and knowing. "I do like something hot on a cold night like this," he said. "Whatcha got?"

Tony sighed and jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "Let's explore. I don't do my own grocery runs, to be honest, but my friends know the limits of my culinary skills."

"Oh, that ain't a problem," said Bucky. "I can cook."

Tony blinked. "You cook, you clean, you're hot; can you just stay forever?" he blurted.

Bucky laughed, thankfully. "We'll see. I mean, you might still be a real bad roommate. Snoring. Wet towels on the bathroom floor. Moldy coffee cups."

"I would never," said Tony, all mock-offended at the last one. "Coffee does not go to waste in this household."

The bottom of the kitchen sink was entirely covered in empty coffee mugs, and Bucky shook his head, still smiling. "So I see," he said. "Well, I'll get to this after dinner, I guess."

"It can wait until morning," said Tony, waving him off. "I have more mugs." 

He opened a cupboard to point out the extensive supply of good coffee, or at least what passed for good in this day and age, before moving on to the pantry. It had pasta and rice and a few aspirational bags of flour to go with the sugar, plus the picked-over wall of various canned and jarred fruits, veggies, pasta sauces, peanut butter, jams, and even some canned tuna and salmon. Tony had an emergency stash of canned spaghetti to one side, plus dried fruit of all kinds and a big container of granola in baskets on the back wall.

The fridge was stocked with a few lingering fresh things from his last delivery, mostly milk for coffee plus eggs and cheese, which he'd taught himself to deal with out of pure stubbornness. There was some shelf-stable dairy in the pantry, too, for when he got desperate and drank the less-good coffee, and the freezer was still about a third full of waffles and the bags of frozen peas he liked to dump into his pasta.

"So, nothing special, but we won't starve," said Tony with a shrug.

"Nothin' special?" said Bucky, looking positively floored once Tony bothered to focus back on him and not his own mental grocery list. "Doll, this is amazing. I'll just do something simple for dinner, but tomorrow we are having fruit pancakes for breakfast and lasagna for dinner."

"Oh, there's shelf-stable bread for sandwiches and stuff," said Tony, opening up one of the other cupboards and pulling down a loaf. "You have to finish baking it, but it's pretty good, actually."

"I take it all back," said Bucky. "I am never leaving."

Tony laughed and bumped shoulders with him. "Sounds good to me, Buckaroo. How about I do some office work while you cook, and you can have a shower after? I've got unlimited hot water out here, but sometimes the desalinization system needs a little time between people."

"You're really off the grid," said Bucky, sounding impressed instead of freaked out this time. "That's good for me. You got a preference for rice over pasta?"

"Nah. I've got a rice cooker, so I do that pretty often, but not so much I'm sick of it or anything. And I'll find you a tablet so we can make a grocery list, I see Sam once a month usually and I can see I'm getting low on waffles, which is a sign he'll be showing up soon." Tony's hands were working while he talked, body on autopilot getting coffee beans down and dumping them into the grinder, setting the grind and starting it up, dumping the filter out into the compost and rinsing it clean.

"I don't know that I'll be here that long, but if I don't overstay my welcome I'd love to get some stuff for baking," said Bucky, watching Tony with a look of bemusement.

It seemed like overall happy bemusement, though, so Tony went with it. "Yeah, I can't bake for shit, so I guess that's something for after the third date," he teased, sighing once the smell of brewing coffee filled the room.

Bucky chuckled. "I'll put cookies on the menu when you've got the right stuff," he promised.

"Oh, bless you," said Tony. "Chocolate chips are on the wall with the granola. Dunno about the rest, though." He paused the coffee maker to pour himself a cup, then restarted it and saluted Bucky. "Okay, caffeine, work, and food. I'll be out in the living room."

"You got it, boss," said Bucky, waggling his fingers almost-smoothly at Tony as he went.

Tony was sure he hadn't left a serial killer alone in the room with all his knives. 

Well, pretty sure.

He pulled up some of the more boring parts of his business, paperwork and investments and keeping contact with Pepper and Rhodey and Sam, the few people he still trusted in the world. He had liquidated or transferred pretty much all of his assets when he vanished, but he still fed Pepper information for SI and got updates back. He also kept Rhodey up to date on how he was doing and even saw him sometimes, though not as often as either of them wanted.

It was dangerous having Rhodey come out here where there was nothing but Tony. They couldn't risk it more than a few times a year, at irregular intervals and with plausible excuses, with Rhodey so highly placed in the military.

Sam saw Tony the most, the bringer of groceries and customers and messages. Tony opened a chat window to him and sent out a ping.

"I take it Bucky found you?" asked Sam, adding a little thumbs up like it was still the noughties.

Tony snorted. "Yeah, he's in my kitchen cooking me some actual food. He requested baking things. I might marry him if he can make me cookies."

"Wait until he makes you lasagna," said Sam. "I'm glad you're taking labor in trade. He's a good guy but he ain't got a ton of ready cash."

"He offered to clean up after me." Tony didn't bother to elaborate; they'd discussed the irritating sludge of toxic masculinity that tended to come in with the kind of guy whose vehicle broke down out in the middle of Tony's nowhere before.

Sam sent him a very smug looking emoji.

Tony sighed. "I'm getting low on waffles and milk. How can I bribe you to come out early?"

"Bucky's lasagna," said Sam.

Tony laughed. "Well, that's tomorrow night. Too soon?"

"No way, man. Send the list before whatever late-ass hour you go to sleep, and I'll be there with baking soda." Sam sent him a bunch of food emojis and then logged off.

Tony snorted and closed the program, sauntering back into the kitchen to find Bucky doing something arcane with his pots and pans. "So, Sam's coming for your lasagna tomorrow and promises to bring whatever groceries we want, if you can make up a list before bed."

"That's a pretty big promise," said Bucky, sounding positively avaricious in a way he hadn't even when eyeing up the shiny tech in Tony's workshop.

"So, the way to your heart is fresh milk?" he asked, peering curiously at whatever mysteries Bucky was concocting. "I mean, he has limits, I have a budget now, but yeah, we'll make a list and see what we can do."

"You got it, doll. Are you here for more coffee?" He nodded to where the pot still had one cup left, a kindness Tony hadn't honestly anticipated. 

"I am now." He poured and sipped while he cleaned up after the pot, resetting everything for morning, although he didn't bother with the timer. Most days, he opened when he felt like it or someone rang the bell. 

"This should be another five minutes," said Bucky, when Tony didn't leave.

"So," Tony said, nursing the last half cup and leaning against the counter to watch the muscles move in Bucky's back and thighs and everything in between. "I get three kinds of customers: idiots and desperate people who've broken down out here in the boonies; referrals from Sam; and car hobbyists, which Sam pretends to be, who have heard through the grapevine that my mods are a cut above. Which they are, of course."

"Of course," said Bucky, sounding amused. "So that hot rod of Sam's is your doing?"

"Yeah, it's his delivery fee. My contact pays for the supplies, he ferries them over, and I trick out his car on his visits. He likes to grouse that they attract cops, so my next task is to make the mods more subtle." Tony shrugged, unrepentant. Pepper paid the tickets out of Tony's budget and sent him snarky-but-amused notes.

Bucky started putting food on plates, arranging it more like an actual meal than Tony had bothered with since basically forever. "Okay, so why are you telling me this?"

Tony chuckled. "I just don't want any of them to startle you. The broken-down idiots tend to try to pull macho bullshit, the car kids can get really amped up to be getting something from The Mechanic, and the desperate ones usually cry. It can be a lot if you're not expecting it."

"So, loom and look mean for the idiots, tea and hankies for the criers, and probably just hide from the car kids," said Bucky thoughtfully. "I mean, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, that's okay. You can hide down here from everyone. I usually don't open until someone buzzes, and I close whenever I feel like it, as you saw." Tony downed his coffee and sighed, rinsed the cup and added it to the army in his sink. "You're really okay with all this cleaning?"

"I'm really okay with bein' your houseboy, Tony," said Bucky with a wink and a smirk. "I made a chicken thing over rice, not sure what it's called but my best friend always likes it." He handed Tony a plate. "Go sit down, we're not animals."

Tony got a fork from the drawer and a beer out of the fridge, one of the big homebrew bottles that Sam found fuck knew where. "Grab glasses?"

"Seriously? Fuck yeah," said Bucky, finding the fancy beer glasses and joining Tony at the table. "I've been wanting more of this since Sam gave us a bottle a few months ago."

"Us?" asked Tony. "Is there an ex on her way I should know about?"

"Nah, we never made it that far. We've been friends forever, but I needed." Bucky breathed, ran his hand through his hair and then carefully popped the top on the beer bottle and served, half for Tony and half for himself, perfect pours. "I had a hard time before we found each other again, and I need some time away from him expecting me to be the person he remembers, that's all."

Tony nodded, wincing in sympathy. Empathy. "That's a feeling I know intimately, though in my case those people were mostly not worth going back to."

That seemed to be all either of them wanted to say, so they tapped glasses and sipped beer to avoid further conversation. Tony dug into the food and had to pause in pure shock and stare at it, look back at his kitchen, and take another bite before he could process what was going on in his mouth. "Wait, you made this out of my kitchen? From things I already had."

"Tony you fixed my arm with three screwdrivers and two pieces of wire," said Bucky, his tone far too reasonable for the deliciousness happening on Tony's palate. "You fixed shit I didn't even know _could_ be fixed."

"Yeah but that's easy, that's just mechanics. This is magic." Tony gestured at the plate with his fork. "I will build you the best arm you've ever wanted if you'll keep doing this to my mouth."

"Oh, doll," said Bucky, a smile blooming on his face that seemed softer and much more real than the others Tony had seen, "I've got much better things to do to that mouth of yours."

"Not until I've finished eating this, you don't," said Tony, pulling the plate to himself protectively. "Not even all that can compare to this." He gestured expansively at Bucky's general hotness. Then he ate another bite, eyes fluttering closed to better appreciate the taste. It wasn't five-star cuisine, but he was so used to his own bland incompetence in the kitchen that the delicious simplicity was exactly what his palate needed. It was nothing too rich or overly complex, pulling out the most from each ingredient and making them work together in a way Tony had never been good at.

He could mix alloys on the fly or design circuitry in his head, but Tony never had figured out how much salt to add to his food.

Bucky laughed but looked encouraged as he went back to his own meal, shooting Tony speculative looks, his face quiet and still again but less closed off, somehow. Like Tony had earned some real trust and not just what was required to get his arm fixed and ride out the storm without anyone ending up dead. And if Tony got more than just some good food out of it, well. He certainly wasn't going to complain.

After all, Bucky was a really hot guy with a really cool cybernetic arm, and Tony was very isolated and very comfortable with his own kinks.

**Author's Note:**

> I have fleshed out the world here and Steve will eventually show up when Bucky doesn't come back, and this series will probably end with some happy threesome ever after. Anyone who knows me at all will find this completely unsurprising.
> 
> Next up: dinner with Sam!
> 
> When? At some completely unpredictable interval determined by the moon, the tides, Inktober, Nanowrimo, my migraines, and certain people's puppy eyes.


End file.
